Lost in herself
Description
" She walks home with a fair share of frustration. 11 hours straight, bearing the brunt of suited men and women. She smiles and accepts that she is merely a part of a chain. A chain where blame moves from one end to the other.
Each day, for those 11 hours, her life was about the IT grind. Work - shouting - deadline - pressure - exhaustion. That was the sacrifice she made to be independent. To have control in her life. Control that everyone sought.
She comes home and drops her bag, removes her shoes, unties her hair and exhales the relief that she deserved. She goes to her room, looks in the mirror, and her daily trials replay in an unpleasant manner. She unhooks her bra and walks out of her pants. She knows, in the end, her body is hers, and she has control over how it feels to be in her own skin.
In a moment of true and unadulterated hope for pleasure, she lays herself on her silk bed sheet. Her hair drooping over her bare shoulders. Her soft, yet tired hands work through her underwear. She touches herself - gently caressing her thighs and moving upward.
Her body had one duty to itself, satiate her beautiful carnal lust. A few minutes of her being in tune with herself turns into a wild toe curling, neck stretching, back arching moan that lasts for barely a few seconds. Her thighs tighten up, fingers dig into the silk bed sheet and she is, in her moment of climax, lost in herself. Those few seconds represent something - the ultimate control one has over their body, just to lose control for a glorious moment - an orgasm.."
Each day, for those 11 hours, her life was about the IT grind. Work - shouting - deadline - pressure - exhaustion. That was the sacrifice she made to be independent. To have control in her life. Control that everyone sought.
She comes home and drops her bag, removes her shoes, unties her hair and exhales the relief that she deserved. She goes to her room, looks in the mirror, and her daily trials replay in an unpleasant manner. She unhooks her bra and walks out of her pants. She knows, in the end, her body is hers, and she has control over how it feels to be in her own skin.
In a moment of true and unadulterated hope for pleasure, she lays herself on her silk bed sheet. Her hair drooping over her bare shoulders. Her soft, yet tired hands work through her underwear. She touches herself - gently caressing her thighs and moving upward.
Her body had one duty to itself, satiate her beautiful carnal lust. A few minutes of her being in tune with herself turns into a wild toe curling, neck stretching, back arching moan that lasts for barely a few seconds. Her thighs tighten up, fingers dig into the silk bed sheet and she is, in her moment of climax, lost in herself. Those few seconds represent something - the ultimate control one has over their body, just to lose control for a glorious moment - an orgasm.."